


Beach (I Wanna Make You Mine)

by yvessaintlourry



Category: One Direction, One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Harry Styles - Freeform, Harry and Louis - Freeform, I have no idea what to tag, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, Plot With Porn, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, but the porn is soft core, former abusive relationship, gay af, handjobs, harry is a school teacher, harry with kids, i mean cmon, larry - Freeform, mentions of abuse, one direction - Freeform, theres an original character but fuck him yknow, they go skinny dipping, they go to the beach a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2019-02-13 04:37:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12976077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yvessaintlourry/pseuds/yvessaintlourry
Summary: "We're here," Harry says softly as he pulls into his parking spot."So we are," the boy smiles over at Harry. "I guess I'll see you, then," he says as they both exit the car and walk down to the sidewalk."I guess you will," Harry chuckles as he turns to unlock the front door of his building while the boy begins walking away. Harry's eyes widen once he remembers the whole point of their late night trip to the beach. "Wait!" he calls out, turning around to try and find the mysterious boy, but he's nowhere in sight.Harry sighs.He still doesn't know the boy's name.OR the one where Harry's a school teacher, and he keeps getting woken up by some drunk dude on the street who really likes the beach





	Beach (I Wanna Make You Mine)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this for awhile, but it's probably still shitty!!!
> 
> also this is most likely going to have mistakes bc i haven't edited sooooooo ya lmao
> 
> I hope u enjoy this mess
> 
> ps you should totally follow me on insta @yvessaintlarry

Harry couldn’t be any happier than he is in this moment that he can finally  _sleep_. He’s only been teaching for two years, but  _Jesus_ , this week had to have been the longest one he’s experienced so far, and he has no more energy to deal with 30 little  _brats_. 

Okay, they’re not  _all_  brats, and he loves them all, but if Jason throws  _one more_  spit wad at Megan, Harry’s going to lose his shit. 

He takes his sweet time getting ready for bed, because he knows he’s about to get the best sleep of his life. He brushes and flosses his teeth after his leisurely shower, does a 10-minute face mask, exfoliates, moisturizes, strips down to his boxers, and climbs straight into bed under the comfiest comforter he owns.

Just as he starts to feel himself drift off-

_CRASH._

Harry jolts up and glares at the doors to his balcony. “Are you fucking kidding me,” he grumbles to himself as he listens to the sounds of obnoxious laughter coming from whoever’s making the ruckus outside on the ground below.

He begrudgingly forces himself out of bed as the laughter continues, opening the doors, and walking out onto his balcony, placing his hands on the railing and looking down at the blokes about 20 feet beneath him. 

 _Be polite. Be polite. Be pol-_  “Hey, can you blokes kindly shut the fuck up?” Harry calls out to the two guys. He’s not so much with the kindness today. 

“Hey-ey-ey!” one of the brunettes with a higher voice than he expected yells excitedly up at Harry, and he can see the beer bottle and smell the weed from where he stands on his balcony. 

“I’m trying to sleep, here, can you please go bother someone else?” Harry asks, his politeness still not shining through. 

“Last time I checked, these were public streets!” a strong Irish accent bellows from the other brunette, and the way he’s slurring isn’t helping Harry understand what he’s saying. 

“Alright, well, you’re standing under my balcony, so could you at least go to the end of the street and yell?” Harry calls back, motioning to his left. 

“Sure thing, Daddy!” the smaller one calls, and Harry swallows at the name as the Irish one cackles, and he awkwardly retreats back into his apartment as they begin to walk farther down the street. 

 

~

 

It’s about a week later on a Friday when Harry hears a familiar sound outside of his bedroom.

Harry likes to think that he's a good person, so he just yells “You idiots again? Can you please respect the fact that I have to actually wake up tomorrow?”

"Tomorrow's Saturday!" the boy with the brunette fringe slurs.

"I have to go to a wedding!” Harry lies, truly just wanting his damn beauty rest.

"Alright, alright, don't get your kickers in a twist! We'll leave!"

"Thank you! Please don't come back!" Harry yells out to them. 

"See you next Friday, Curly!”

 

~

 

The next Friday, Harry's had a terrible day. His boss yelled at him because Jason’s parents complained that he was sent to detention for continuing to throw spit wads at Megan _once again_ , after Harry had told him to stop multiple times. Just because Jason’s parents donate to the school, does  _not_  mean that he should give him special privileges. That isn’t right. 

He’s just about to get into bed, when- "Are you guys  _actually_  kidding me?" Harry yells from his balcony with only a towel around his waist and wet hair clinging to his forehead. 

"Don't be such a drag, Curly! Your towel's slipping!" the stranger laughs. He's alone this time, but still quite pissed. 

"Where's your friend?" Harry yells back as he grips onto his towel, unsure of why he cares. He doesn't care. 

"He went home! Fucking loosah," he giggles. 

Harry rolls his eyes. "You should go home too, mate. I'm tired of sleeping 'til noon and wasting my Saturdays!" he calls, aware that the way the man said "loser" gave his heart a little flutter, and usually northern accents annoy him slightly, but the drunk's voice calms but excites him at the same time if that makes any sense at all. 

"Then sleep 'til 3, and come join me!" the brunette suggests. 

The offer stuns Harry. All the man has done for the past three weeks is annoy the hell out of Harry and all Harry's done is yell at him to shut up and leave. 

"I don't even know your name!" Harry manages to reply. 

"Keeps the mystery alive, Curly!" the man laughs. "Have you ever gone to the beach at 3 in the morning?"

"Well, I mean," Harry admits. "No."

"Then let's go! If we leave now, we can get there by 2:30!"

Harry can't believe he's even thinking about accepting the strange man's offer. 

"How do I know you're not going to murder me?" Harry asks, only partly joking. 

"You don't!" he replies, and for some reason that answer comforts Harry slightly. "C'mon, Curly! You know you want to!" he urges. 

Harry sighs and bites his lip. Does he really want to risk going out with this bloke? He doesn't get any weird vibes from him, despite his incessant need to ruin Harry's sleep. 

"Fine!" he gives in. "Let me put on clothes, then!"

"You sure? You have a nice little body!" the man jokes, pulling a cigarette from a pack and lighting it against his lips. 

Harry just rolls his eyes and steps off of his balcony back into his bedroom. He quickly slips on some underwear along with his black skinnies with the holes where his knees are and a plain white t-shirt. He pushes his feet into his worn down brown boots before going out onto the balcony again to discreetly check to see if the man was still even waiting on him. 

He saw him leaning with his back against a street lamp while he takes another drag of his cigarette. 

Harry takes another deep breath and goes through his mind again to make sure he actually  _wants_  to go to a beach this late at night with a complete stranger, but he still kind of wants to, so he leaves his flat and exits the glass doors of the building. 

The obnoxious squeal of the door hinges causes the stranger to look towards Harry. Their eyes meet and Harry can see the piercing blue color of his irises from 20 feet away. 

"I was starting to think that you were going to stand me up," the blue-eyed man jokes with a smirk. 

"You should know that if you murder me, I'm haunting you," Harry replies, ignoring his comment, and the bloke just laughs. 

"Noted."

"I'm assuming I'm driving since you've been drinking."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

Harry notices how short the stranger is compared to him. He expected him to be taller for some reason. Harry doesn't let himself think about just how attractive the bloke is up close for long. 

"C'mon," Harry rolls his eyes, motioning for the man to follow him to the flat's parking garage. 

He only slightly flinches when the shorter brunette locks their arms together and begins skipping next to Harry. The movement jerks Harry a bit, but the stranger's small enough that it's not too much that it was difficult to walk. 

"You are ridiculous," Harry laughs as he presses a button on his keys to unlock his car. 

 

///

 

"What about this one?" the stranger asks, changing the song in the middle of it playing to a slightly more upbeat one. 

"Nope," Harry says for the fourth time in a row, telling the man that he's never heard it. 

The man scoffs. “Go Let It Out by Oasis. You really should think about expanding your taste in music, you know."

"Well, then make me a mixtape," Harry jokes, knowing very well that there's a good chance that they'll never see each other again after tonight. 

"Maybe I will," he grumbles in annoyance as he continues to search through his music library on his phone. "Okay, if you don't know this one, I'll need you to drop me off on the side of the road, because I don't think I could stand to be in the same fucking car as you," the stranger says, pressing play.

The sound of an electric bass playing the same chord over and over followed by the addition of a glorious drum beat fills the speakers of Harry's car and his lips immediately break into a grin. 

"Last night," Harry begins singing, dragging out the 'i.' "She said oh, baby, I feel so down. Oh it turns me off when I feel left out so I, I turn 'round. Oh, baby, don't care no more. I know this for sure. I'm walkin' out that door," he continues with a smile, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel to the beat. 

The blue-eyed man grins over at Harry and joins him. 

"Well, I've been in town for just about fifteen minutes now," they sing together. 

The stranger bounces happily in his seat as they begin the chorus and nods his head along to the beat of the drums. 

"See, people, they don't understand. No, girlfriends, they can't understand. Your grandsons, they won't understand. On top of this, I ain't ever gonna understand!" they sing, basically screaming by the end of the chorus. 

When the song ends, the man stops his air-drumming at the perfect time and looks over at Harry with a grin that creates wrinkles by his eyes, and the blue of his irises can barely be seen. 

Harry decides that he's beautiful. 

"Last Nite by The Strokes," Harry says simply, glancing over at the boy next to him. 

"So, your taste in music isn't completely terrible, then," he states, putting his songs on shuffle. 

"And you have a nice voice," Harry compliments.

"Oh," the brunette gasps slightly, turning his head towards the window. Harry can only glance over because he has to watch the road, but he swears he can see a blush on the boy's cheeks. "Thank you," he hears him mumble. He coughs, quickly composing himself. "Your voice isn't half bad either, Curly."

 

"Tell that to the X-Factor judges," Harry laughs as he makes a left turn. 

"You tried out for the X-Factor?" he asks quickly, his head shooting towards Harry. 

Harry just nods. "Yeah, the 2010 series," he sighs. "I was 16 with a dream and a subpar voice," he jokes. 

The boy next to him stays quiet after that, and Harry wonders if he said something wrong. Just when he's about to ask, the man's confused frown transforms into a huge grin. "There's the beach!" he exclaims, moving up in his seat slightly and pointing to Harry's left. 

Harry just chuckles with a shake of his head and turns into the entrance, parking in the completely empty lot. 

"2:28, just in time," the boy cheers, quickly undoing his seat belt and pushing the door of Harry's car open, and shutting it with a bit too much force. He slips his shoes off as he runs down the steps, almost tripping over himself on the way down. 

Harry had barely taking the key out of the ignition by the time the strange man was running barefoot on the sand. 

He's not quite sure what the fluttering sensation he was feeling in his chest meant, but Harry just ignores it and slips his shoes off, locking his car and walking down the same steps the boy had almost fallen over on. 

He watches the small beauty run in circles in the sand with his arms out and smiles at the sight. He'll admit it's very cute.

He doesn't even realize the boy had been getting closer to him until he feels his hand being grabbed and sees blue eyes connect with his green. He feels himself being pulled and suddenly he's running barefoot on the beach with a complete stranger whose name he doesn't even know, and he can't imagine anything he'd rather be doing.

 

~

 

The stranger hasn't come by in almost 3 weeks, and Harry didn't think he would be disappointed to be getting his full 8 hours of sleep at night, but he kind of misses the annoying drunk boy. 

'At least I had a good night with him,' Harry thinks, trying to remind himself that he's literally never going to see the bloke again. 

Not that he cares. Who cares? Not Harry. Nope. 

It's 11pm on a Wednesday, which means that it's Harry's self-assigned bedtime so that he's able to be rested enough in the morning to deal with 30 fifth graders. 

He strips down to his boxers and quietly fumbles his way into his bed after turning his lights out. His students were really trying his patience today, so he was out basically as soon as he shut his eyes. 

 

///

 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Harry groans at the annoying sound that's just woken him up from a great dream that involved him, David Beckham, and chocolate strawberries. 

Tap. Tap. 

"What the fuck," Harry grumbles as he tries to squeeze his pillow around his head to drown out the incessant tapping. 

Tap. 

Harry could literally scream. 

Tap. 

He groans again and sits up in his bed with his legs facing his balcony. He's assuming there's a fucking bird or something flapping around on his balcony. 

Tap. 

Harry stands up, probably slightly more annoyed than he should be, and walks over to his balcony, quickly opening up the door only to be met with a pebble hitting his forehead. 

"Ouch," he groans, bringing his fingers to where he was assaulted. "What the fuck?"

“Hi!" he hears a familiar voice call from below, and he walks onto his balcony to see the boy from a few weeks ago standing on the ground beneath him. "Hey, Curly!" the boy greets with a wave. 

“‘Oops’ would have been a better word! Hi to you too. What are you doing here? What time is it?" Harry grumbles down to him, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead. 

"It's 1 in the morning. I couldn't sleep," the boy admits. "Let's go to the beach!"

Harry just sends him a glare. "I have work in the morning!" he calls back. 

"I'll have you back by sunrise!" the boy promises with a grin that has Harry's heart skipping a beat. 

"I teach 11 year olds! I need sleep!" he laughs. 

"Please?" the boy says with a fake pout, and Harry sighs. "I need a distraction!"

Harry ponders the offer, and he could just go to bed early tomorrow. 

"Tell me your name, and I'll go with you," Harry offers and the brunette scrunches his nose at that. 

"Where's the fun in that?" he giggles, and Harry thinks that might be the most glorious sound he's ever heard. 

"Name or no beach," Harry stands his ground. 

"You first," the boy says. 

Harry rolls his eyes. "My name's Harry."

"Hello, Harry," the boy says with a smile. "Come to the beach with me and you might get my name," he laughs. 

"That wasn't the deal!" Harry whines. 

"That's the best that I can do!"

"Fine! Let me put pants on," Harry grumbles down to him, and he just replies with a thumbs up, which Harry returns as he goes back inside. 

Harry decides that he's too tired to put jeans on, so he finds his black joggers with the white strings that he likes, a grey t-shirt, and some slip on sneakers that he almost never wears. 

He sighs and grabs his keys, not really knowing why the hell he's going to the beach that's an hour and a half away when he has work in the morning, but if it all goes to hell, he figures he can just call in sick. 

"Whatever," he mumbles to himself and he walks out of his building's main entrance. "Let's go," Harry says gruffly to the man while holding his arm out to him, and the man quickly locks their arms together again with a grin on his red lips, and Harry ignores the tingly feeling near his heart. 

 

///

 

"Okay, we've been here for half an hour. What's your name?" Harry asks, only slightly annoyed that he still doesn't know what to call the boy. Part of him thinks the mystery is kind of romantic, and the other part knows that there's no way they'll ever end up together, because this isn't a fairytale. 

They're currently sitting on the beach, both of their toes digging their way further and further beneath the surface of the sand. 

The boy smirks at his question and just puts a hand out over Harry's chest and pushes the both of them down so that they're both lying on their backs. 

"Do you see those three stars in a perfect line right over there?" the boys says, pointing his finger to the right of them both and ignoring Harry's request for the 3rd time since they've been here. 

"Yeah," Harry sighs. 

"If you look closely, you can see the four stars that connect to make a square type thing, and together it all forms a kite, kind of, and that's the big dipper," the smaller boy explains. "and then right over there is the little dipper."

"It's like me and you," Harry laughs, turning his head to look over at the boy, who he's just now realized is insanely close to himself. 

"What are you talking about?" he asks with squinted eyes. 

"I'm the big dipper, and you're the little dipper. Because you're so small," Harry says with a teasing smile. 

The boy just rolls his eyes, and Harry thinks he could easily get lost in them. "I'm not even that much smaller than you, thank you very much."

Harry shrugs. "Small enough."

The boys rolls his eyes once again, looking back up towards the sky. 

"'M 5'9," the boy mumbles. 

"Can I know your name now?" Harry asks for the fourth time, determined not to let the boy change the subject again. 

"Do you want to go skinny dipping?" the boy asks with a mischievous grin, sitting up on the sand. 

"What?" Harry asks, his eyes going wide as his upper body props itself up on his elbows. He's already disappointed his own determination. 

"Let's go skinny dipping. Have an  _adventure_ ," the boy repeats, his eyes full of excitement. Harry can't seem to speak any longer, his mouth just slightly ajar as his brain tries to come up with an answer. "C'mon," the boy giggles with a roll of his eyes as he grabs Harry's hand and pulls him up to his feet. 

Harry freezes even more while he watches the boy slip his white tshirt over his head and toss it to the side. He tries to tear his eyes away when the boys undoes the button on his jeans, but he really doesn't want to. His torso had to have been painstakingly sculpted by the gods, because Harry doesn't think he's ever seen such a beautiful creature in his life. The tattoos must have been painted on by angels, because they compliment his skin so nicely. The boy's jeans are being thrown next to his shirt, and before Harry knows it, he's staring at a very naked, very beautiful stranger. The stranger takes no notice to Harry's stares (as far as Harry knows) as he runs towards the ocean, and Harry's never seen such a nice ass on anyone. 

"C'mon, Curly! The water feels great!" the boy calls out to him when he gets to about waist deep. 

Harry comes out of his trance quickly and decides to make the most out of whatever the hell is happening right now, so his shirt comes off. Then his joggers. Then his boxers. Soon, he's running into the ocean as the boy watches on, admiring Harry's figure as well, not that Harry notices his stares. 

Harry runs right up to where the beautiful boy is floating and dunks him under without a second thought. 

He cackles as the boy comes up, sputtering and looking at Harry with eyes of betrayal. 

"Alright, I see how it is then," the boy laughs, the blue in his eyes becoming more intense and his wet fringe sticking to his forehead. "Come 'ere!" he yells, diving after Harry, causing a shrill shriek to rise from his throat as he tries to swim away to no avail, because the boy clings onto his shoulders and forces the taller boy beneath the surface of the water. He comes up a few seconds later with a look of determination in his eyes, and he can tell that the boy can see it, because he turns and begins trying to run away in the water as Harry swims after him. It's only about 10 seconds of annoyingly loud laughter from the two of them when Harry finally catches up to the boy, grabbing him by the waist from behind and picking him up, spinning him around and dropping him back into the water as he kicks his feet. 

They both laugh as the boy grabs on to Harry's forearms and helps himself to stand, Harry gripping the boy's forearms as well. 

Their laughter begins to subside slowly when they both realize how close they are to each other in that moment. If either of them moved forward an inch, their entire bodies could be touching. If Harry tilted his head down an inch and the other boy tilted his up an inch, their noses would be touching, and Harry wouldn't mind either of those things. 

Apparently neither would the other boy, because before Harry can even process what's happening, the boy's lips are on his. Harry really should have seen this coming, but he didn't because he's clueless. 

Harry closes his eyes and slowly starts to move his lips against the shorter boy's, and the boy takes that as an invitation to deepen the kiss as he swipes his tongue across Harry's bottom lip. Harry immediately obliges, and their tongues begin to dance together. 

The boy's hands move from Harry's arms to Harry's neck and pull him closer to himself. Harry grips the boy's hips, and he can't help but moan into the boy's mouth as he feels their mutually stiff cocks rub against each other. 

Harry feels the boy's hand slowly sliding down Harry's torso as their kiss becomes more heated. His dainty fingers brush over Harry's nipples and dance their way over the moth on his stomach and trail their way down to his belly button and slink down his treasure trail until they wrap themselves around his cock and begin to move up and down his shaft. 

"Jesus," Harry groans in pleasure, pulling his lips away from the boy's for a split second before they're connected again. 

Harry wraps his hand around the stranger's cock and begins to return the favor. He doesn't think it's possible for him to become any more turned on than he is in this moment, but that thought is proven wrong with he hears and feels the boy's whiny moans against his own lips as he strokes his shaft, increasing the speed and tightening his grip to increase the feeling he's giving the boy, because Harry honestly doesn't think he's ever seen or heard anything as beautiful as him coming undone right in front of him. 

Harry moves his lips down the boy's neck so that he can hear his moans properly, and he bites and sucks at his sweet spot until a nice red mark is visible. The volume of both of their moans increase dramatically after that, because they're both so fucking close, and Harry doesn't think he can handle much more. 

"Fuck,  _Harry_ ," the boy breathes, and the sound of his name leaving the boy's lips has Harry on a whole new level of pleasure as he climaxes into the sea. 

The look on Harry's face when he cums seems to be all that's needed for the other boy to climax, his whole body shaking as Harry holds him close, kissing his neck and continuing to jerk him off to allow him to ride out his orgasm. 

"My knees feel weak," Harry laughs into the boy's neck as they both try to catch their breath. 

"Ditto," the boy breathes out a laugh, before squeezing Harry's ass, causing the taller boy to jump slightly. "That certainly wasn't supposed to happen," he states after a moment with a small smirk on his face. 

"I'm not complaining," Harry smiles. 

"Neither am I."

"I should get back. I need to be at work in about 4 hours," Harry says, looking down at the boy. He only nods, taking Harry's hand and leading him out of the water to where the pile of their clothes lay in the sand. They leisurely shake the grains of sand off of their clothes before they redress and walk in silence to Harry's car. 

 

///

 

The hour and a half drive back was mostly silent as the two boys went over the events that just transpired in their minds, both of them trying to hide the idiotic smiles on their faces from the other. 

"We're here," Harry says softly as he pulls into his parking spot. 

"So we are," the boy smiles over at Harry. "I guess I'll see you, then," he says as they both exit the car and walk down to the sidewalk. 

"I guess you will," Harry chuckles as he turns to unlock the front door of his building while the boy begins walking away. Harry's eyes widen once he remembers the whole point of their late night trip to the beach. "Wait!" he calls out, turning around to try and find the mysterious boy, but he's nowhere in sight. 

Harry sighs. 

He still doesn't know the boy's name. 

 

~

 

*literally like 2 months later*

Harry's just about to go to sleep when he hears a loud tap on his balcony window. 

His eyebrows furrow, because the last time that happened, he ended up having probably one of the most exhilarating nights of his life. 

That was almost 2 months ago, now. He hasn't seen the boy since. 

He walks out onto the balcony in only his joggers and bunny slippers. A fresh blanket of snow covers the sidewalk, but there's no one on the street below him.

Harry sighs and decides he's just imagining things, and he really should just go to sleep. It's winter holiday now, so Harry doesn't have much to do tomorrow, but if imaginary sounds are making themselves seem real, sleep is the best option. 

He closes the door to his balcony and begins to crawl into his bed. 

Tap. 

Harry's head shoots over to his balcony again in confusion. He shakes his head and gets under his covers. 

Tap. Tap. 

"Okay, that has to be real," Harry mumbles to himself, getting out of bed once more and steps out onto his balcony once more. 

He looks over the edge and sees the familiar blue eyed boy about to toss another pebble towards his window. 

"Curly!" the boy exclaims in excitement, dropping the rest of the pebbles in his hand. "I heard you open the door before, but I was gathering more pebbles, so I missed you," he laughs. 

"What have you been doing for the past two months?" Harry calls down to the boy with a yawn. 

"I made you a mixtape!" the boy smiles widely up at him, ignoring his question. 

"A mixtape?" Harry repeats, remembering their first real conversation in Harry's car. 

"Yeah! We can have a listen on the way to the beach!" 

"The beach? There's literally snow on the ground!" 

"We don't have to get in the water this time!" he offers. Harry feels a blush form on his cheeks from the mention of their time in the water together. "Harold, up for it?" the boy's laughs. 

Harry sighs. "Yeah, I'm up for it!"

"Great! Now go put a coat on, You're absolutely mad for being out here shirtless!" the boy giggles. "Not that I mind all that much, just don't want you to catch a cold!" he adds 

"I'll be right down!" Harry rolls his eyes. 

He's down about 10 minutes later wearing his black skinnies with his black Calvin Klein tshirt and his favorite tan, slightly furry winter coat with his brown boots. 

"You clean up nicely," the boy smiles, brushing his fringe to the side. 

Harry scrunches his eyebrows as he looks the boy up and down. "Is that my jacket?" he asks, motioning to the light wash jean jacket with a white fur lining. 

"This old thing?" the boy jokes with a shrug. "Yes, yes it is. Stole it from your car last time I was in it."

"How did I not notice-"

"You were too entranced with me to notice," he interrupts Harry with a laugh. "Anyways, we should get a move on if we're going to catch the sunrise."

"Sunrise?" Harry asks as the boy hooks their arms together and begins leading them to Harry's car. "It's only midnight."

"Is it? Well, then I guess we'll just need to keep each other company until the sun comes up then," the boy smiles, keeping his gaze in front of the two as they walk. "Unless of course you have to work in the morning," he adds on, the smile only dropping slightly. 

Harry shakes his head. "No, it's winter holiday this week and next."

"Perfect," the boy replies, grinning as Harry unlocks his car. 

 

///

 

"I can't believe your car has a cassette player in the radio," the boy laughs as his slips the mixtape he created in. He almost forgot to play is for Harry, and Harry almost forgot to ask. They got way too lost in conversation, talking about literally nothing, but the words were slipping off their tongues so easily. 

"I can't believe you actually made me a mixtape," Harry says back. "And on a cassette, no less. I was just joking, y'know."

The boy just shrugs. "You need better music, I'm just doing you a favor."

"I like my music," Harry grumbles. 

"It's complete shit," the boy laughs. 

"What the hell is this?" Harry asks as he hears someone start to rap through his car speakers. 

"DNA by Kendrick Lamar," the boy says as if Harry was supposed to know that. 

"Who?" Harry asks and the boy gives Harry a look like he's just slapped him across the face. 

"Please tell me you're joking," is all the boy replies. 

Harry just shrugs and keeps his eyes on the road. 

"I have a feeling I'm going to need to make you more than one mixtape," he mumbles, skipping to the next song. 

"Okay, this one sounds more like something I would listen to," Harry says as the drum beat mixes with the bass. 

"Do You Know Me? by VANT," the boy says before beginning to sing along to the lyrics. "I think you'll like this one too," he says, switching the song. 

"Do you ever listen to a song all the way through?" Harry laughs, glancing over at the boy to see him shrug. 

"Sometimes," he says quietly. "Beach (I Wanna Make You Mine) by Will Joseph Cook."

 

_I can't do it without cracking_

_If these locks allow_

_This is what I'm dreaming 'bout_

_It's a long shot, but I'll take it_

_Long way, but I'll make it_

_But if these locks allow_

_This is what I'm dreaming 'bout_

_I said_

_Hey, I wanna make you mine_

_Hey, I wanna make you mine_

_I wanna make you mine_

_I can't seem to love another_

 

"You're right, I do like this," Harry admits softly, admiring the length of the boy's eyelashes for longer than he should have, seeing as he's driving. 

 

_I got bubbles inside my head_

_Loose tongue spitting out_

_This is what I'm dreaming 'bout_

_Am I missing or not?_

_Got my head stuck like a junkie_

_But if these locks allow_

_This is what I'm dreaming 'bout_

_I said_

_Ay! I wanna make you mine_

_Ay! I wanna make you mine_

_I wanna make you mine_

_I can't seem to love another_

 

_You and I are not so easily breaking_

_We're just living our lives_

_Keeping ourselves to_

_You and I are not so easily broken_

_We're just losing our minds_

_And breaking the silence_

 

They pull into the beach just as the song ends, and Harry parks in the space by the steps like usual. 

"That's my favorite one you've played me so far, I think," Harry replies, he voice soft as he turns his head to give the boy a small smile. 

The boy returns the smile, but quickly changes the subject. "The sand is waiting for us." He quickly removes his seat belt and opens his door to exit the vehicle, waiting for Harry to get out this time before he goes down. He grabs Harry's hand as soon as he's locked his car and drags him down the steps, both of them removing their shoes on the way down. 

 

///

 

"I've missed this the past two months," the boy's says with closed eyes as he breathes in the fresh air that the sea is passing over to him. 

"You mean you don't have any other blokes that you force to drive you down here in the middle of the night?" Harry jokes with a chuckle, not realizing the double meaning behind the boy's statement. 

The boy shakes his head and sits down in the sand with his arms hugging his knees as he watches the sea move in and out. "You're the only one that will drive me here," he chuckles. 

Harry responds by sitting down next to him and mimicking the way the boy sits. 

"How long until the sun rises?" Harry asks, and he sees the boy's surprised face at the question. 

"Quite a while. I didn't think you'd actually want to stay 'til then," he admits sheepishly. 

"Yeah, why not?" Harry shrugs. "Unless you don't want to."

"No," the boy answers quickly. "I'd love to sit with you for a few hours," he smiles. 

Harry returns the smile and only a few minutes pass before Harry can feel the boy shivering next to him. 

"Are you cold?" Harry asks, looking over and seeing that the tip of the boy's nose has turned slightly red. 

"A bit," he admits. 

"Here," Harry says, beginning to remove his coat. 

"No, then you'll freeze," the boy stops him, placing a hand on one of Harry's. 

"We'll share it and cuddle up to each other, then," Harry declares, and the boy wasn't going to say no to that offer. 

He just nods and scoots closer to Harry as he opens his coat and wraps it around the smaller boy, both of his arms making their way around him as well. The boy leans his head onto Harry's shoulder, and Harry's really glad the boy and his friend decided to get drunk outside of Harry's flat. 

 

///

 

Harry feels himself being shaken, and he doesn't realize he had fallen asleep until he opens his eyes to reveal the most beautiful sight he's ever woken up to. The boy was leaning over his face with a huge grin that reached his eyes. His beautiful blue eyes that could challenge the color of the ocean and win. 

"What's happening?" Harry asks, his voice coming out quite croaky. 

"The sunrise is starting," the boy says excitedly from above him. 

Harry smiles at the boy's excitement and sits up so the boy can cuddle up to him again for warmth. They wrap their arms around each other and Harry has to stop himself from kissing the top of the shorter boy's head, because he doesn't know if their time in the ocean was a one-off or not. 

"That's absolutely beautiful," he hears the boy mumble as he stares at the hues of pink and orange slowly change before his eyes. 

Harry can't help but stare down at the boy and admire him instead. "Yeah, it is."

The sun's halfway in the sky when the boy speaks again. 

"Louis," he says simply without taking his gaze away from the multitude of colors in front of him. 

"What?" Harry asks with furrowed eyebrows. 

"My name," he replies, tearing his eyes from the sunrise and moving them to Harry's. "It's Louis."

"Louis," Harry repeats, a grin forming on his face. "Beautiful name for a beautiful person."

Louis blushes at the comment and looks away, but Harry doesn't mind, because he finally knows the blue-eyed beauty's name. 

 _Louis_. 

 

~

 

It's a month later when Harry finally hears the tap he's been waiting for forever. 

A smile breaks out onto his face, and of course, he's not wearing a shirt again and it's freezing outside, but he just grins and bears it, walking out onto the balcony. 

He looks over and sees Louis on the street below, so he waves. "Louis!" he says excitedly. "Are we going somewhere?"

"Harry," Louis replies, and Harry's heart drops when he hears his voice crack. 

The majority of Louis's face is being hidden by his adidas baseball cap, but now that Harry's heard the sadness in his voice, he recognizes that Louis's usual smile is replaced with a frown. 

"Are you crying?" Harry asks with all the care in the world. 

"Harry, I can't-I need-please-" Louis replies, and Harry can hear the sobs wracking through Louis's body. 

"I'm coming down to get you!" Harry calls down to him. "Just stay right there!" he says, and he sees the smaller boy nod. 

Harry quickly grabs his keys and rushes down the stairs to the bottom floor, not bothering to wait for the elevator. When Harry comes out onto the street, still shirtless and freezing, he sees a bag near Louis's feet that he didn't notice before. 

His eyes land on Louis, and he quickly jogs over to the boy, both of them taking the other into their arms. Harry's left arm wraps around Louis's waist while his right hand finds its way to the back of his neck and strokes the section of his hair that isn't being covered by a hat. Harry can feel tears running down his chest as Louis sobs in his arms. 

"I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid," Louis says shakily between breathes. 

"You're not stupid, Louis. What's going on? What-" Harry starts, his breath catching when he pulls back from Louis and sees his face that was hidden by the hat moments before. "Louis, your eye," Harry says with wide eyes and a worried stare. He slips the hat off of Louis's head to reveal his disheveled hair, and Louis doesn't try to stop him, instead just beginning to shed more tears. 

Harry study's Louis's eye with his hands placed gently under his chin so that he can get a good look at it. There's a small purple bruise at the pointy end of his eyebrow and a slight purple tint on the lid of his eye. Under his eye is the worst part, though. A puffy, deep purple half-moon that starts at the inner corner of his eye makes its way down to Louis's cheekbone. There's a yellow tint surrounding the purple that makes its way to the bridge of Louis's nose, and Harry wants to throw up. 

Who in their right mind would hit someone as beautiful, inside and out, as Louis?

"Louis," Harry says softly as another tear rolls down Louis's cheek. "Here, come inside, love," he says, slinging Louis's bag over his shoulder and wrapping his other arm around Louis's waist to lead him up to his flat. 

The bruise looks way worse in artificial lighting, and Harry feels like crying. 

"Louis, what happened?" Harry asks, sitting Louis down on one of the barstools in his kitchen. He quickly goes to his fridge and puts a few ice cubes in a plastic bag and wraps a paper towel around it. 

"It's my fault," Louis sobs, wrapping his arms around himself and rocking back and forth without making eye contact with Harry.

"How is this your fault?" Harry says, grimacing when he notices another bruise near Louis's mouth, pressing the DIY cold compress to the bruise near his eyebrow. 

"I pissed him off, I shouldn't have pissed him off, I shouldn't have done that," Louis says quickly, between sobs. 

"Pissed who off? Done what?" Harry just wants to understand what the hell happened to the boy in front of him that he cares about probably a bit too much. 

"I had to leave him though, Harry, you have to understand, I had to," he says frantically, finally looking into Harry's eyes. "I had to," he whispers. 

It's then that Harry begins to understand what happened. Louis has a boyfriend. Or at least, he had a boyfriend. One that had some anger issues, it seems. 

"Are you talking about your boyfriend, Louis? Did your boyfriend hit you?" Harry asks softly, pressing the ice to his eye. 

Louis just nods and breaks into a fit of sobs once again. 

Harry feels a rush of anger soar through his body, but he knows he needs to be calm for Louis's sake, so he keeps his voice soft. 

"Let's get your coat off, Lou," Harry says, unzipping the jacket and slowly pushing it off of his arms, laying it on the counter when it's off. It's then he notices a lighter cluster of bruises that he can only recognize to be shaped like a hand. He gasps at the sight, and his eyes flicked from Louis's eyes to his arm. "Did he do this too?"

Louis nods through his tears. "That was a couple of weeks ago, though. It's almost gone now."

"Oh, Lou," Harry says sadly, gently wiping away the tears from both of Louis's eyes, apologizing when Louis flinches. 

"I'm sorry," Louis apologizes. "I don't usually come see you when I have bruises," he says, and Harry's heart breaks. "I didn't have anywhere to go."

"I'm glad you came here," Harry says honestly. "Shouldn't we report him to the police?" Harry asks, and Louis's eyes widen. 

"No, please don't, please d-don't do that, please, Harry, I'm begging, don't call the police," Louis rambles, and Harry quickly places his hands on both of Louis's arms and rubs up and down to soothe him. 

"Shh, Louis, it's okay," Harry says softly. "I won't call without your permission, alright?" If Harry's honest, he totally would call without Louis's permission, but he doesn't know the assholes name or where he lives, so he literally can't. "Just don't go back there, alright? Just stay with me for now."

"I'm not going back," Louis assures Harry. "I left him, I can't go back. I don't want to."

Harry nods. "Keep this on your eye, it'll help the swelling," Harry says, handing the ice pack to Louis. Louis does as Harry says. 

"How long has he been doing this?" Harry asks, hoping he doesn't cause Louis to go into another fit of tears. 

"We got engaged about 6 months ago, and ever since then, he's been a completely different person," Louis mumbles, avoiding eye contact with Harry. 

Harry's heart hurts quite a lot, knowing that Louis was engaged the entire time they've known each other, including when they were intimate at the beach, but he knows that's not the most important thing right now. 

Apparently, Louis knows exactly what Harry was thinking though, because he sighs and leans towards him to peck him on the cheek. 

Harry's cheeks flush, and he just looks away. 

"When we were in the water, I felt more for you than I did for him," Louis says quietly, removing the ice from his eye to give it a break. The statement doesn't comfort Harry, so he just shrugs. "I still do," Louis whispers. Harry meets Louis's eyes and gives him a small smile. "Can I take a shower?" Louis asks weakly after a moment of silence. 

"Course," Harry immediately nods and takes Louis's hand, leading him to his bathroom and making sure that the water's warm enough. "Is that good?" Harry says, motioning for Louis to feel the water. 

He puts his hand under the stream of water and nods. "Perfect."

Harry just smiles at him and starts to walk away, but he feels his hand being tugged back. 

"Harry?" Louis asks with sad eyes. 

"Yeah, Lou?" he replies, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of Louis's hand in his. 

"Thank you," he states. "For everything." 

"You really don't have to thank me, Louis. If anything I should be thanking you," he says honestly and Louis just tilts his head in confusion. 

"For what? Ruining your sleep and wasting your petrol?" he laughs. 

"You gave me something to look forward to," Harry says, leaving the bathroom before Louis could reply. 

 

///

 

"You can sleep in my bed, and I'll just take the couch for now, alright?" Harry asks, putting an extra pillow on his bed for Louis. 

"Wait, but," Louis starts with furrowed eyebrows. 

"Yeah?" Harry asks. 

"I don't like sleeping alone," Louis mumbles, looking anywhere but at Harry. 

"You want me to sleep with you?" Harry smirks. 

"Don't give me that look, Curly," Louis glares. "Just get in the bed, and stop being a twat."

"Fair enough," Harry chuckles with a shrug of his shoulders. He goes into his bathroom and quickly brushes his teeth. When he goes back into his bedroom, he sees Louis standing shirtless with his back towards him, and Harry can't help but bite his lip as he stares. Louis's bare back gives Harry flashbacks of their time in the water, and Harry's dick twitches in his pants. Another purple mark on Louis's left lower back shakes the thoughts away quickly though, and Harry's once again reminded that Louis literally just got out of an abusive relationship like 3 hours ago. 

Of course, Louis then turns around, and Harry has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep himself from letting a moan slip out at the sight of Louis's godlike curves. 

"Whatcha staring at, Curly?" Louis smirks and Harry immediately shoots his eyes up to meet Louis's blue. 

"Nothing," he mumbles, raising his arms to grip the back of his shirt and slipping the fabric off of his torso, throwing it into his laundry hamper. 

It was apparently Louis's turn to stare, because Harry feels eyes burning into him as he picks a few of his things off of his floor as part of his nightly routine and puts them where they belong. 

"Whatcha staring at, Louis?" Harry says, mimicking the boy and loving the way his name slips off his tongue. 

"Shut it," Louis mumbles and quickly climbs into the bed, facing away from Harry. 

Harry just rolls his eyes fondly and slips into bed next to the beautiful boy. 

"Goodnight, Lou," Harry says and Louis hums in reply. 

They both lie there in silence for about 20 minutes, and Harry can feel himself close to sleep until he hears Louis's soft voice. 

"Harry?" Louis says quietly, testing to see whether he's asleep or not. 

"Yeah, Lou?" Harry replies, turning his body to face the smaller boy to see him doing the same. 

"Can I tell you something?" he asks shyly. 

"Of course, Lou." Harry lets himself admire how Louis looks with rays of light from the street lamps outside hitting him at the perfect angles. Although, Harry swears that with Louis, there's no such thing as an imperfect angle. 

Louis sighs deeply and moves his hands to rest between his cheek and his pillow. "I think we've met before," he says quietly. 

"Yeah, Lou, we've met a few times," Harry chuckles. 

"No," Louis giggles, shaking his head. "You told me you tried out for the X Factor in 2010 on our first trip to the beach. I auditioned too. I thought you looked familiar," Louis laughs. 

"We met at the X Factor?" Harry chuckles, confused. 

"Yeah, right before you went on."

A look of realization comes across Harry's face. "I met you in the toilet," he laughs, nudging Louis's arm gently. 

"You did. And I thought you were cute, so I made you take a picture with me because I said I just knew you'd be famous," Louis laughs, bringing one of his hands up to his eyes in embarrassment. "How cringe."

"I thought it was sweet," Harry laughs, but Louis just sends him a look. "Okay, it was a little cringe, but it was still sweet," he admits. 

Louis smiles over to him, but his grin turns into a frown just as fast as it came. "I met Jack a week after they rejected me," he says softly. 

Harry frowns and moves closer to Louis, resting a hand on his waist. "Is he the one who-" Louis's nodding cuts him off, and he just sighs. 

Louis wipes the tear that falls down his face and scoffs at himself. "I'm sorry," he mumbles. "I don't know why I keep crying over that idiot," he sniffles. 

"None of what he did is your fault, Lou," Harry says, thinking about what he kept saying when Harry first sat him down. 

Louis groans. "But maybe I shouldn't have-"

"Louis," Harry interrupts sternly. "None of it."

"But-"

"No."

"Okay," Louis sighs. 

"C'mere," Harry says, holding out his arms. Louis immediately obliges and moves himself closer, humming contently when Harry's arms are wrapped tightly around him. 

"Maybe we were meant to meet each other at the auditions," Louis says sleepily a few minutes later. "and maybe it was fate that I ended up outside your flat."

Harry smiles and kisses the top of his head. "Yeah, maybe."

 

~ 

 

"I'm sorry, Curly, I swear I'll move out as soon as possible," Louis sighs sheepishly. "I'm just having a hard time finding a place."

It's been almost a month since Louis showed up at Harry's flat with bruises and tears. Harry's found that he actually quite likes having the smaller boy around, even though he has extra dishes to do. It's nice not being lonely. 

"There's no rush, Lou," Harry says honestly with a smile. Part of him doesn't want Louis to move out. A big part of him. 

Harry and Louis still sleep in the same bed, but that's all they do. Sleep. Harry wouldn't mind doing a little bit more, but Louis's just gotten out of a terrible engagement, and Harry isn't about to push him.

Louis sometimes gets up in the middle of the night to sleep on Harry's couch when he feels like a burden. Harry hates that. Usually, though, he stays in bed with Harry. 

They haven't even kissed since that one time at the beach. Nothing. It takes all of Harry's willpower not to connect their lips any chance he gets. 

"I'll be out of your hair soon, Haz," Louis smiles. 

Harry just sighs and continues to do the washing up. 

"I'll be right back," Louis says a few minutes later, walking in the direction of the loo. 

Only a moment later, the doorbell rings, and Harry just rolls his eyes because Liam is the only person who drops by his flat without a warning (especially now that Louis's living with him), and he's really not in the mood for Liam's incessant beer-hogging. 

"Coming, Liam!" he calls as he jogs over to his front door. "Hey, man, I'm not really-Oh," Harry cuts himself off, surprised at the unfamiliar face at his door. "Can I help you?" he asks politely. 

The man in front of him is probably slightly shorter than Harry himself, but quite a bit buffer than him. He has medium light brown hair that messily flips itself over to one side and a sharp jawline. 

"Is there a Louis here?" the man asks monotonously with a look of worry on his face that looks almost fake to Harry. 

Harry immediately stiffens and furrows his eyebrows, narrowing the doorway so that he's in between the side of the doorframe and the door. 

"Who are you?" Harry asks gruffly, ignoring the man's question. 

"Should I take that as a yes?" the man speaks, obviously annoyed. 

"You should take it as a tell me your name or I'm shutting the door," Harry scoffs, knowing very well that if he hears the name he thinks he'll hear, he's shutting and locking it anyways. 

"Harreh, who's at the door?" Louis yells from the hallways, and Harry closes his eyes momentarily in annoyance. 

"No one!" Harry yells back. "I think you should go, mate," he says quieter, beginning to shut the door. 

The man just smirks and puts his foot out, stopping the door in its tracks. "Louis, c'mon, I'm taking you home!" the man yells, trying to fight the force Harry's placing on the door. 

"Jack?" Harry hears Louis gasp quietly. 

"Louis, go to the room," Harry says sternly, but gently. Harry doesn't look back, but hears tiny footsteps quickly retreating. 

“Mate, that’s my fiancé, not yours, so how about you open the fucking door or I’ll open it for you, and beat your fucking skull in,” Jack hisses, pushing against the door to try and open it further. 

“Oh, fuck off,” Harry rolls his eyes, shoving the door closed and locking it before Jack could turn the doorknob. 

Harry quickly gets a chair from the dining table and puts it under the doorknob to make it that much harder for Jack to open. He grabs his phone from the coffee table in his living room and quickly dials 9-9-9 before putting the phone to his ear and listening to it ring. 

“999, what’s your emergency?” the operator says from the other line. 

Harry sees Louis slowly begin to walk out of the hallways and towards him, giving Harry a strange look, and looking over towards the front door to see the chair. “Harry, what are you doing?”

Harry gives Louis an apologetic look before he speaks into the phone. “My name’s Harry Styles, and there’s a bloke at my door trying to break in, and he keeping yelling threats towards me and my roommate who he abused for 6 months,” Harry says in one breath, staring at Louis the entire time and watching his beautiful face transform into one of complete and utter betrayal. Harry gives the operator Jacks full name and Harry’s address as he watches Louis storm off into the other room. 

Once Harry’s able to hang up, he continues to try and ignore the banging coming from his front door, following Louis down the hall into their bedroom. “Louis,” Harry says, walking in to find the boy throwing his stuff in his duffel bag. “Louis, what are you doing?” 

“Don’t fucking worry about it, you absolute  _dick_ ,” Louis growls without making eye contact with the taller boy. 

“Louis, I had to call the police,” Harry reasons, beginning to pull all of the clothes out that Louis’s shoving in his bag. 

“Fucking  _stop_  that,” Louis shouts, shoving the clothes back in as Harry takes them out. 

“He somehow fucking tracked you down to my flat, tried to force his way in here, and then threatened to bash my fucking skull in, Louis, what else was I  _supposed_  to fucking do?” Harry exclaims, continuing to unpack Louis’s bag. Louis stays silent, and the banging stops a few seconds later. 

“See, Harry? He fucking  _stopped!”_  Louis motions to the door. 

“He heard the fucking police sirens, Louis!” Harry shouts back. 

Louis just rolls his eyes and tries again to put the same fucking shirt in his bag, which Harry promptly removes once again. “Holy shit,  _fuck_  the bag!” Louis yells, grabbing his coat from the chair in the corner of the room and shoving his arms through it. 

“Louis, where are you going?” Harry calls, following after him as he heads towards the front door. 

“None of your fucking business,” Louis grumbles, moving the chair and opening the door. 

“Stop! Louis,  _don’t!_  You don’t know where he is! He’s looking for you, stop!” Harry says, running to the door and calling after Louis. He begins to try and run after him but a police officer stops him. 

“Mr. Styles? I need to ask you a few questions,” the officer says. 

“Yeah, I know I called you, but my boyfriend-I mean, not my boyfriend, my-my roommate or whatever, the guy I called you about is looking for him, and he’s trying to leave, so I need to go get him, and-“ Harry rambles frantically. 

“Johnson, follow the boy and don’t let him see you,” the officer in front of Harry says, and his partner nods, walking in the direction of Louis. 

“Thank you,” Harry breathes. 

“Now I need to ask you a few questions.”

 

///

 

Louis doesn’t know where he’s walking, but he just really needs to not be with Harry right now. He had absolutely no right to call the police. He fucking told Louis he wouldn’t call without his permission, and he did it anyways. 

Jack doesn’t deserve to go to jail. Louis provoked him all those times. It’s not Jack’s fault, it’s Louis’s. 

Louis came home with a fucking hickey on his neck after that night with Harry, what else was Jack supposed to do? Of course he hit Louis that day. He probably could have refrained from kicking Louis in the torso so hard that he had to drive himself to the hospital with 3 cracked ribs, but Louis deserved that. And then he kept seeing Harry even though he knew it upset Jack. Of course he hit him. 

Yes, Louis left the bloke, but he still loves him. They were together for 7 years for gods sake. It’s not like he never cared about him. It just got too overwhelming. 

It’s really fucking cold right now. Like way the fuck below freezing cold. And Louis feels like he’s being watched, but there’s literally no one around right now, so he might be going insane. 

Louis’s not even completely sure how long he’s been walking, but it’s probably been hours by now. 

He suddenly hears footsteps sink into the snow behind him, and he quickly turns around to find no one there. Okay, he’s actually going insane. He needs to stop being so fucking paranoid. 

He hears the sound of a car nearing him, so he turns around and sees that it’s a taxi, quickly flagging him down and telling the driver to take him to the only place he feels truly okay. 

 

///

 

It was an incredibly expensive cab ride, but the scenery in front of him made it completely worth it. 

The sun’s going down now so the light of both the deepness of the moon and the vibrance of the sun is reflecting on the water as the waves run along the sand. 

Louis’s been sitting here for literally hours now, his knees against his chest and his arms around his calves while he thinks about what the fuck he should do about whatever happened today. Jack doesn’t deserve to go to jail, Louis thinks, but Louis deserves to be hit sometimes, he knows that much. He’s kind of a little shit, if he’s honest. 

The sun’s more than half way below the sea when Louis decides he should probably find some sort of cheap hotel for the night, because he doesn’t feel like making the trip back to London alone. He also doesn’t particularly want to see Harry, so he’ll just stay here tonight and maybe try to figure his life out. 

Louis scrolls through Google and stumbles upon a cheap hotel that’s only a 15 minute walk away, so he stands up, taking one last look at the beautiful beach in front of him before he begins to head in the direction that the map on his phone is telling him to go. 

Louis loves this part of England. Everything about this town screams ‘beach,’ and Louis can’t get enough of the vibrant colors that cover the streets. 

A grey kitten passes in front of him, and he mentally ‘aw’s as the little baby saunters into some random alleyway and disappears into the night. 

Before Louis even has time to take his attention away from the cat, he hears a sound next to him and sees a figure moving rapidly closer in his peripheral vision. He tries to scream, but before he can, a hand forcefully covers his mouth, and suddenly he’s being dragged into the same alley that the kitten had previously gone into, and Louis has no fucking idea what to do.

It’s dark in the alley, and the person holding him from behind isn’t talking, but rather breathing heavily against the back of his neck as tears begin rolling down Louis’s cheeks. 

The person finally takes a deeper breath than he already has after Louis’s tried to struggle for what feels like forever. “Obviously I didn’t teach you a good enough lesson the last time you tried to leave me,” the voice breathes into Louis’s ear, and Louis’s breath catches in his throat, Jack’s hand still covering his mouth. 

Louis tries to bite Jack’s finger, but is immediately met with a sharp pop on his lip, causing the familiar taste of blood to meet his tongue again, before Jack brings his hand back over Louis’s mouth. Louis gasps at the sudden pain, but doesn’t try to bite again, because he just doesn’t want to be hurt anymore. 

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Jack hisses, flipping Louis around to face him and violently shoving his back against the brick wall behind them. Louis winces in pain, knowing for a fact that another bruise is going to form on his back over the next couple of days. 

Jack’s hand that isn’t covering Louis’s mouth comes up to push against Louis’s chest and hold him in place while he speaks. “You know, Louis, I really should have fucking killed you the last time you pulled this shit.”

Louis’s body shakes with sobs at this thought as he begins to shake his head. 

“Stop fucking moving,” Jack growls, and Louis automatically freezes, squeezing his eyes shut as tightly as he can to pray to every deity that he can just wish himself out of this situation. “Look at me when im talking to you.”

This makes Louis open his eyes and stare Jack straight in the face. In his angry, homicidal face. 

“That fucking piece of shit you ran to when you tried to leave me, the one you’ve been fucking behind my back for who knows how long, you know him? Yeah, he doesn’t fucking love you, you fucking idiot. No one fucking loves you. I’m the only one who could ever feel that way about you, because you’re a fucking cunt who doesn’t understand what he does and doesn’t deserve. No one could ever love you like I do. You’re mine, and only mine,” Jack growls, his face so close to Louis’s that their noses are touching. 

Louis cries at his words and hopes that he’ll just fucking let him go. But no. 

“Do you have anything to fucking say?” Jack says angrily, releasing his grip on Louis’s mouth. Louis let’s out a long breath between sobs after Jack lets him breathe completely. “Fucking say something!”

“Me and him never had sex,” Louis sobs, trying to calm Jack down. 

“Don’t fucking lie to me, you piece of fucking garbage.” Jack’s voice becomes angrier as he says this, his elbow beginning to push harder against Louis’s lungs. 

“I swear! We didn’t have sex!” Louis cries out truthfully as more tears drown his cheeks. 

“I’ll make sure you never fucking lie to me again,” Jack grumbles, moving the hand that originally covered Louis’s mouth to Louis’s throat, his fingers gripping tightly around the width of his dainty neck and pulling upwards slightly, Louis’s feet now dangling beneath him as he tries with all of his might to breathe or to fight back or something, but no matter how hard Louis hits his fists against Jack’s chest, and no matter how hard he pushes against Jack’s arm, he can’t get him to so much as even budge. 

Louis wants to cry and scream and anything, but he can’t fucking breathe, and he doesn’t know what the fuck to do, so he tries to kick Jack, but that just makes his grip on Louis’s neck tighten as he grunts in anger and Louis feels the tears free falling as he struggles. 

Louis’s almost given up hope as his vision begins to become blurry and his head becomes light when he hears a gasp and suddenly a figure that Louis can’t quite make out is tackling Jack and suddenly Louis’s on the ground, coughing and wheezing and  _breathing_  again. He can feel the scratches on his back bleeding because of the brick and he can feel the outline of a forming bruise in the shape of a hand on his neck. 

When Louis looks up, there’s another man pulling the figure off of Jack and that’s when Louis realizes that the figure is Harry. 

Headlights flash from a passing car, allowing Louis to see the sheer anger on Harry’s face and in his body language and in his roaring voice as the police officer restrains him from Jack. Harry’s knuckles on his right hand are cut up and bloody, and Louis leans against the brick wall because this is all too much for him right now. 

 

///

 

“How did you find me?” Louis asks hoarsely from the familiar location of the passengers seat of Harry’s car. He had woken up in the hospital after passing out at the sight of Harry screaming and hollering at Louis’s ex-fiancé. 

“Lou, the doctor said not to talk for awhile,” Harry says calmly (a drastic difference from Louis’s last memory of him). Turns out almost being choked to death is super terrible for your throat. Who knew? He answers the question regardless. “I had been searching for you since you left, basically. Then, the officer that was following you lost you, but I figured if you were going to go anywhere, it would be the beach. So I made him take me there.”

Louis just nods, not knowing what to say, and not really wanting to talk, because it hurt his throat a lot to talk. 

 

~

 

“Lou, I’m home!” Harry yells as he closes his front door, trudging over to put his bag down on the couch as he ponders what a little asshole Franklin was during class today. 

What kind of 11 year old tells their teacher to “fuck off” when offered a lolly? That doesn’t even make sense. 

“Lou?” Harry calls out again, hoping that maybe he’ll receive a reply today. He walks towards his bedroom, and when he opens the door, he finds a disheveled Louis in the exact spot he left him in 8 hours ago. In bed, surrounded and swallowed by the most cloud-like comforter Harry owns. 

Harry stares at Louis’s (beautiful) face with pursed lips for slightly too long before he kicks off his shoes by the dresser and walks over to the side of the bed, crouching down so that he’s eye level with the bed-ridden boy. “You alright?” Harry asks, genuinely wanting to know if Louis’s okay, because he knows he’s not. Harry wishes for a verbal reply, but all he receives is a shrug of Louis’s shoulders and a blank stare. 

Harry can tell from the red blotches and the puffing of his eyes that Louis’s cried recently, and he hates that he doesn’t know what to do for him. 

It’s been about a week and a half since the incident with Jack, but it’s been about 2 1/2 days since Harry’s even so much as  _heard_  Louis’s voice. Louis’s lip and the scratches on his back are almost healed, and his bruises are close to gone, but Harry’s never seen a person seem so depressed. 

He reaches his hand up to brush Louis’s fringe out of his eyes, and he’s met with a flinch from the smaller boy while he squeezes his eyes shut, as if he’s preparing himself for something awful. 

Harry’s heart breaks at Louis’s reaction to his gesture, and he pulls his hand away. “I would never hurt you,” Harry says with every ounce of truth he has in him. “Ever.”

Louis nods, but all he can think is,  _he said the same thing_. “I know,” he says instead. 

 

~

 

"C'mon," Harry says, barging into his and Louis's shared room at an ungodly hour on a wretched weekday and tearing the comforter off of the sleeping boy. 

It’s been almost a month of an incredibly depressed Louis, and Harry doesn’t think his heart can take watching him be sad anymore. 

"What the fuck, Harry? I'm trying to sleep," Louis groans, covering his eyes with his arms to cancel out the light that Harry's flicked on and turning over onto his stomach to bury his face in a pillow. 

Harry can't help but admire Louis's glorious backside. He shirtless with only boxers covering his bottom half, and all Harry wants to do is bite his arse cheek, because  _god_  it's tempting him. 

"We're going to the beach," Harry states firmly, throwing a hoodie and a pair of jeans at the boy's back, as much as it pains him to tell him to put more clothes on instead of to take them off. 

"What?" Louis grumbles, turning his head slightly to stare at Harry with tired, squinted eyes. "What's the bloody time?"

"Beach time! Let's go, chop chop," Harry says with a snap of his fingers. 

"It's 2:17 in the morning, and you want to go to the fucking beach?" Louis says sourly after glancing over at the clock on Harry's wall. 

"You don't?" is all Harry replies. 

Louis's silent for a moment before he sighs and rolls his eyes, pushing himself up to sit upright and pulling the clothes on that Harry had provided. 

 

///

 

"Why do you like the beach so much?" Harry asks as they lay cuddling in the sand under the stars. 

Louis is tucked gently under Harry's arm with his head on his chest and hand on his stomach, Harry's hand reaching behind Louis and to the side of his waist. 

 

"Me mum used to bring me and me sisters out here all the time. She would always talk about how much she loved it out here at night, but she would never take us after dark. It makes me feel closer to her in a way," Louis spills, his voice becoming softer with every other word. 

"She sounds like she was a lovely person, from what you've told me," Harry says truthfully. 

"She was the best,” he smiles.

Harry nods and lets the silence take over for awhile, before he speaks again. "Hey, Lou?"

Louis hums in reply. 

"I think I might be in love with you," Harry speaks softer than usual, keeping his eyes on the night sky above them. 

Louis immediately looks up at him and props himself up on his elbow. Harry can tell he's at a loss for words by the way his mouth continuously opens and closes itself. 

"You don't have to say it back," Harry says, staring into Louis's eyes. "I just thought you should know."

Louis looks at Harry with confused eyes before he slowly nods and lays back down on Harry's chest. "Alright," he mumbles. 

 

///

 

"Lou," Harry repeats for probably the 7th time since they left the beach. They've just gotten back to Harry's flat, and Louis hasn't said a word since Harry said you-know-what. Harry said that Louis didn't have to say it back, but he didn't think he would just stop talking to him. "Lou," he says one more time, and Louis actually stops walking away from him this time, but when he turns to face him, he continues to look everywhere except at Harry. Harry sighs and rubs his eye with his hand in defeat. "I'm sorry," he says finally. "I shouldn't have said anything. You're going through a lot right now, and me telling you that obviously didn't help anything, and I-what are you doing?" Harry cuts himself off as Louis strides towards him with a purpose, crashing their lips together for the first time since the night so long ago at the beach. 

Harry's shocked at the action, but he quickly melts into the kiss, placing his hands on Louis's cheeks and thoroughly enjoying the way Louis's arms wrap themselves around his waist. 

Harry gasps when he feels himself being pushed against a wall as Louis's thumbs dig into his sharp hip bones, and,  _fuck_ , this is all Harry's ever wanted. 

Louis pulls his lips away from Harry's, and Harry knows for a fact that his face is completely flushed, and the way Louis's looking at him isn't helping the dent in his jeans. 

"Okay," Harry breathes, not really knowing what to say, because Louis still hasn't spoken a word, and he's got Harry pressed against a fucking wall. 

"Bedroom," is all Louis says, and Harry finds himself nodding without missing a beat. 

"Okay," he says again, letting the older boy lead him down the hall. 

Louis shuts the door behind them with more force than was probably needed, but Harry doesn’t care, because the person he’s in literal love with is attached to his neck, and he’s finally allowed to touch him the way he’s been longing to for months now. 

Harry’s allows his hands to roam Louis’s body, taking in every detail of every curve the wonderful boy in front of him. 

Louis brings their lips together again as he begins to push Harry’s t-shirt up, eventually disconnecting their lips to pull it over Harry’s head and throw it onto the ground. Harry does the same to Louis’s shirt, before they both begin to undo the other’s jeans and slip off their own shoes. They stumble out of their pants, Louis shoving Harry onto the bed once they’re both only in their boxers. 

Louis falls on top of Harry, his knees on either side of Harry’s hips as he leans over to suck a nice red mark onto the side of his neck. Harry moans at the contact, his hands gripping Louis’s thighs and pulling him closer to himself.

 

 

~

 

The first thing Harry notices when he feels himself waking up is the warmth of the sun rays coming through his window and hitting his chest. All he knows is that the second thing he wants to feel is the boy laying beside him. Or the boy he  _thought_  was laying beside him. He reaches his arm over to the other side of the bed without opening his eyes, only to be met with the soft material of his bedding. 

The confusion this brings Harry causes him to open his eyes and look to where he thought the boy who could potentially be the love of his life  _should_  be. All he sees is an empty bed next to him.

“Lou?” he calls out, hoping to god that he’s watching television in his living room. He’s just about to go check, when he notices a blue sticky note on the pillow that Louis always uses. 

 

_“Harry -_

_I know that I’m leaving without really saying goodbye, but I have to._

_I’m sorry._

_Lou”_

Harry feels his eyes watering, and a tear falls without him noticing. He quickly grabs his phone and dials Louis’s number, standing up and frantically searching around the room for any sign of Louis’s things while he listens to the sound of his call being rejected.

“Louis, what the fuck?” Harry cries into the speaker of the phone as he slips himself into a pair of his boxers. “Where are you? Where’s all of your stuff? Your shoes aren’t scattered across the floor, and your drawers are empty. Lou, what’s going on?  _Please_  call me back. Please. Please come back.”

Harry can’t believe that he ruined this. 

Why the fuck would he go and tell Louis that he’s  _in_   _love_  with him, when he’s already in such a vulnerable place?  _Idiot_. 

 

~

 

“Alright, class, it’s time for lunch,” Harry says at 12:15 on the dot. “Everyone line up in a single file line so we can all get to the cafeteria in one piece,” he reminds the 30 11-year-olds.

“Stop! Stop it!” he hears Megan exclaim and looks over to see one of her classmates repeatedly poking her.

“Eric, we’re not having this conversation again,” Harry warns. "If I see you touching someone else without their consent, I’m sending you to the headmaster’s office.” 

“Yes, Mr. Styles,” Eric replies, immediately putting his hands behind his back.

“Thank you,” Harry says with a nod of his head. "Alrighty, let’s go, everyone.”

They begin to walk down the long hallway that Harry and one of the art teachers, Mr. Malik, have recently covered in the artwork of the students. It makes the plain white walls much more lively and exciting to look at. And the kids  _love_  seeing their work being plastered everywhere.

“Harry?” he hears, and his attention is immediately drawn to the student at the front of his line. She is arguably his favorite student out of all of the students he’s ever had. But he doesn’t tell her that. Her ego’s already big enough. 

“Beau, I’ve told you, you have to call me Mr. Styles. You can call me by my first name when you’re not my student anymore,” Harry chuckles, turning and leading his class down a different hallway. 

“You call me by  _my_  first name,” Beau challenges, and Harry raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ms.  _Gadson_ ,” he laughs. “That better?”

She scrunches her nose before shaking her head. “No, I’ll just stick with Harry.”

“Mr. Styles,” Harry corrects.

“Gesundheit,” she says immediately. It really is astonishing to Harry how sassy she is already. “So, Harry, I have a question.”

“Alright, go ahead,” Harry sighs.

“Are you okay?” she asks causing Harry to furrow his eyebrows.

“What do you mean?”

“When I got to school this morning, your eyes were all red, and you’ve been quieter and more exasperated than usual for the last few weeks, so I figured something might have happened,” Beau says, and Harry frowns. He didn’t think she noticed his eyes this morning, and he was trying his best to act like he usually does even though he’s been constantly on the verge of tears.

“It’s nothing, Beau. I’m fine. But thank you for your concern,” He says, putting a fake smile on his face. “Alright, class,” he continues before she can say anything else, because it looked like she didn’t believe a word he just said. “Go eat, have fun, and I’ll call you all back in about 45 minutes,” he dismisses them into the cafeteria, thankful that he’s not on lunch duty today. 

 

~

 

“Louis, can you at least just let me know that you’re alright?” Harry sniffles into the speaker of his phone, leaving Louis a voicemail for the first time in about two weeks now. He hasn’t responded to any of his messages. “Please call me b-“

“Harry, what are you doing?” Liam, Harry’s friend and also the school’s gym teacher, scolds, barging into Harry’s bedroom with folded arms. “Hang up the phone.”

“No, Liam, I just need to know if he’s oka-“

“Harry, you’re drunk. Give me the phone,” Liam says, snatching the phone right out of his hand and pressing the ‘end call’ button.

“That was rude,” Harry grumbles, clumsily climbing into his bed and pulling his fluffy comforter over his body.

He told himself awhile ago that he just needed to let Louis go, but he may or may not be slightly drunk right now, so all plans of moving on have been momentarily postponed. 

“You know, you’re really annoying when you’re drunk,” Liam deadpans, pulling Harry’s shoes off.

“Not annoying,” Harry pouts.

Liam rolls his eyes.“I had to pull you off some random bloke in the back of the bar tonight before you did something you might regret.”

“I could never regret a dick that big,” Harry retorts with a giggle.

“How the hell do you know how big his dick was?” Liam asks, waving his hands in exasperation. 

“He fucked me in the bathroom after you walked away,” he says nonchalantly, letting his eyes close themselves.

“Do you even know his name?”

“Nope,” Harry smiles.

“Well, you kept calling him ‘Louis,’ so maybe next time you fuck someone, ask for their name so you can scream that instead of your ex’s,” Liam says, raising his eyebrows in annoyance. 

“Louis isn’t my ex, and the bloke didn’t seem to mind when he was balls deep in my-“

“Alright, that’s enough, Harry!” Liam puts his hands over his ears to block out the rest of Harry’s sentence. “Goodnight, I’m crashing on your couch,” he mumbles before he walks out of Harry’s bedroom.

“Goodnight, Daddy!” Harry calls out with a giggle. 

Harry’s only been laying there for a few minutes when he feels a warm tear run down his cheek. He knows that he’s really not okay. He just wants to be okay. He cries himself to sleep, just like he has almost every night since Louis left a month and a half ago.

 

~

 

Harry’s on his usual early morning run when he realizes he’s somehow ended up in a part of town he’s never been to before. It’s not a “bad” part of town or anything, just very unfamiliar, which makes Harry feel slightly uneasy as he continues his jog. It’s about 10 minutes to 6, so he figures the Starbucks he sees across the street will open soon so that he can get a cup of coffee before he has to head in to work. He decides to sit on a bench across the street to catch his breath while he waits.

It’s been 3 months now since Louis left Harry’s flat, and he’s made it almost 3 days without so much as thinking about it, so you could say he’s doing alright.

While Harry scrolls through Twitter and Instagram (both of which are dead, seeing as it’s 5:55 in the morning), he hears a loud cackle coming from somewhere and figures some random drunks are coming back from a night of getting completely wasted, so he just keeps his focus on continuously refreshing Twitter to see if anyone posts anything even remotely amusing. They don’t.

He hears the cackle again, but this time it’s much closer to where he is, so he figures the bloke probably lives in one of the surrounding flats. He continues to ignore the ruckus until-

“Niall, mate, what the fuck are you even laughing at? I haven’t said a word for about 5 minutes now,” a familiar voice chuckles, and Harry’s heart stops. He looks up to find the source of the voice, and his eyes almost pop out of their sockets when he sees Louis holding that Irish bloke up.

Harry’s head starts spinning, and he literally has no idea what to do.

Should he go up to him?  _No, Louis left him for a reason. Louis doesn’t want to see Harry._

Should he just stay here and hope he doesn’t notice him?  _Harry’s literally in plain sight under a streetlamp with a pink jacket and white shorts on, he’s definitely noticeable._

Maybe he should just hide. _No, that’s literally pathetic._

He sees Louis’s head turn in his direction, and Harry immediately shoves himself between two buildings.  _Apparently hiding ended up being the best option, after all._

Harry’s breathing is heavier and more labored than it was during his run, and he can feel himself beginning to sweat again at the thought that Louis might have just seen him.

He tries his best to control his breathing while he stands with his back against the brick wall. When he doesn’t hear anything anymore, he decides he should probably check to see if they’re gone, so he turns and slowly peeks his head around the corner, immediately catching sight of and very possibly making eye contact with the man who may very well be the love of his life as he unlocks the door to what Harry presumes is where he lives now. He quickly pushes himself back against the brick wall, squeezing his eyes shut and begging the universe that Louis didn’t just see him. 

He hears a door open and shut, so he peeks his head around the corner once more to see that the Irish guy and Louis were both gone. He breathes a sigh of relief (and a little bit of despair) before he feels his eyes start to burn as he slides himself down the wall so that his knees are pressing against his chest, his arms wrapping themselves around his calves.

Harry cries into his knees for the first time in 3 weeks.

 

~

 

“Mr. Styles?” Beau says, batting her eyelashes at Harry one random Tuesday. It’s lunch time, and Tuesday is Harry’s day for lunch duty, so he’s sitting with Liam at the ‘teacher’s table’ and talking to him about the students they share.

“You only call me that when you want something,” Harry laughs. “What is it?”

“I don’t want anything,” she shrugs, and he raises an eyebrow at her. “Really!” she urges. “I just want you to know that I truly respect you as my teacher, and I think you should remember that.”

This comment worries Harry. A lot. “Beau, are you alright?” he asks, but she just smiles at him and promptly retreats back to the table she was eating at. “Did that seem strange to you?” he asks, turning to Liam.

Liam shrugs, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Kids are strange.”

“I guess,” Harry mumbles. 

“So, are you finally done moping about that bloke?” Liam asks, changing the subject.

Harry rolls his eyes. “Y’know, Liam? I’m not really sure at this point, because I thought I was finally fine, but then I saw him last week and-“

“Whoa, wait, you saw him last week? When?” 

“I didn’t mean to. It wasn’t planned. I was out for my morning jog, and he was just getting back to his flat from who knows where. I didn’t even know where he lived until I saw him go into the building,” Harry sighs, pushing his broccoli around his plate with his fork, his appetite suddenly gone. “Anyways, I thought I was alright, but I saw him last week, and it really just ruined me again. Like, am I just supposed to live like this for the rest of my life? Literally, I saw him, and it was like he was breaking my heart all over again. My chest hasn’t stopped hurting since I saw him. Which, by the way, I think he might have seen me too, but I can’t be certain,” Harry groans, leaning back in his seat.

“The chest pain thing sounds more like a heart condition to me,” Liam jokes. Kind of. 

“You know what I mean,” Harry says, setting his fork down on his plate.

“Yeah,” Liam sighs. “Well, I just-“ Liam cuts himself off, his eyebrows furrowing as he looks at something. “Hey, don’t-“ he yells, standing up from his seat, pointing to god knows what behind Harry.

Harry turns around just in time to see Beau throwing what seems to be a cupcake that lands on the shoe of one of Ms. Edwards’s students.

“Beau-“ Harry yells, standing up.

“What the fudge?” Darmani yells at her, grabbing a cupcake from his lunch box and throwing it back in Beau’s direction, only to have it hit a different girl on the back of her head.

“Darmani!” Harry yells again, before witnessing the girl Darmani threw a cupcake at throw another cupcake in the opposite direction. “Why do they all have cupcakes?” Harry frantically asks Liam as the entire cafeteria begins to become plastered in dozens of different kinds of cupcakes.

“They probably planned this. Damn kids,” Liam mumbles, blowing his whistle to try and get them to stop as he walks into the middle of the war, which of course only ends in him being covered in frosting and cake. 

Beau turns to face Harry and gives him a thumbs up. Harry literally can’t deal with any of this right now, so he just sits back down at this point and puts his head down on the table. He freezes when he feels a cupcake smash onto the back of his neck and looks back to see Liam staring at him.

“If you could help, that would be great right now, Styles,” Liam says, obviously annoyed.

The fact that Liam threw a cupcake at him whilst trying to cease a cupcake war seems a little obnoxious, so Harry picks the cupcake up off of the ground and throws it back at Liam, hitting him in the middle of his back.

“Really?” Liam says, turning around again.

“You did it to me!” Harry calls back with a slight laugh. At this point, cupcakes are flying literally everywhere, and Harry doesn’t have the energy to try and stop the fight, so instead, he kind of… well. “If you can’t beat them, join them,” Harry laughs, picking a destroyed cake off of the ground and throwing it straight into Liam’s face.

Liam gasps and wipes the cake off of his cheek flinging it onto the floor. An evil smirk appears on his face before he takes a mound of cake out of a student’s hand and throws it straight back at Harry.

The kids cheer at their teachers joining the food fight. Of course, the cheering doesn’t last for long, because all goes silent when the headmaster slams the cafeteria doors open. 

“Mr. Payne! Mr. Styles! What in gods name do you think you are doing?” the headmaster shrieks, her face turning beet red with fury.

“Um, we were just- um,” Harry stammers, trying to think of something. 

“I’m waiting,” she says sternly, crossing her arms and tapping her foot against the floor.

“Um-“ Harry stutters again.

“They were trying to stop the cupcake war, but I guess it’s kind of difficult to control a hundred 5th graders,” Beau speaks up, and Harry would literally adopt her if she didn’t already have a loving home.

“I see,” the headmaster says, not seeming like she truly believes Beau’s words. “Tomorrow, instead of recess, all 94 of you will be on clean-up duty,” she declares, and all of the students groan, but nod.

“Yes, Headmaster Grenaldi,” they all say in unison.

“Good. Now go to the bathroom and clean yourselves up, you’re all a mess,” she says, walking out and mumbling to herself.

“That was incredibly close,” Liam mumbles, wiping his forehead.

“Beau, thank you for covering for us, but why would you start the fight in the first place? You know better,” Harry asks, making sure she knows that he’s disappointed.

She grins up at him. “It’s just nice to see you smile again, Harry."

 

~

 

“Hello?” Harry grumbles into the speaker of his phone, trying his best to peel his eyes open as he checks the time on his bedside clock. 

_5:27 AM._

“Hi, Harry, I’m so sorry to call you so early in the morning,” one of his coworkers and dear friend, Leigh-Anne, says frantically back to him. “It’s just there’s been an emergency with my mother this morning, and I desperately need someone to fill in for me at the pre-school today. Do you think you could do it?”

“Leigh, you know I would in a heartbeat, but I have my own class to teach-“

“Yes, yes, I know, but I’ve already talked to Ms. Harris, and her entire class is out with chicken pox, so she can take care of your class for today while you watch my kids,” Leigh says, and Harry can tell she’s walking quickly somewhere because of her breathing. 

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for Ms. Harris to watch your kids then?” 

Leigh-Anne scoffs. “Harry, you and I both know that Ms. Harris and 2 to 5 year-olds would not mix well.”

Harry breathes out a laugh at the thought. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, then. Well, if she’s alright with it, then I am. What time do I need to be there?”

“Parents usually start to show up at around 7, so 6:30 is a safe bet,” she replies. “Again, I’m so sorry about the short notice, I just don’t trust anyone else with my kids. I’ve never missed a day, you know.”

“I know, Leigh,” Harry says, sitting up in his bed and rubbing his eyes with the back of his free hand. “No worries, really. You know how much I love kids,” he smiles.

“Thank you so much, Harry,” Leigh-Anne praises. “You’re an absolute life saver.”

“Give your mum my love when you see her, alright?” Harry says.

“Of course, dear. Have fun with my babies, and make sure they know that I miss them all!” she says.

“Alright Leigh, don’t worry about them today. They’re in good hands,” Harry reassures her, hanging up after they say their goodbyes.

 

///

 

Harry really didn’t think that taking care of a bunch of toddlers would be this exhausting. He knew it was hard work, but he had no idea just  _how_  hard the work actually was. 

There’s 13 two to five year-olds in his classroom, and if it wasn’t for Leigh-Anne’s teaching assistant, Frankie, Harry would have most likely already fallen over from exhaustion. 

Mickey is throwing a tantrum, Dana is crying because Mickey is throwing a tantrum, Henry and Kyla constantly crave Harry’s attention, and Lucas is running around nude while Frankie chases him with a clean diaper. Absolute chaos.

“Mickey, love, I need you to take a deep breath and tell me what’s the matter,” Harry says calmly.

“G-Georgie took m-my blocks,” Mickey blubbers, his breathing erratic. 

“Georgie,” Harry calls to the 4 year-old. She walks over and he puts his hand on her back. “Did you take Mickey’s blocks, Georgie?”

Georgie nods. “I only took a few of them. I thought we could share,” she says, holding up a red block.

“See, Mickey?” Harry says. “You can share your blocks with Georgie. Why don’t you two go play together at the block station, alright?” Harry suggests, and Mickey nods, wiping his eyes and trying to make his breaths go back to normal. 

“Jesus,” Harry mumbles to himself as he stands up off the ground. He immediately feels 2 small bodies tackle his legs from behind, almost dead-legging him in the process. “Oof!” he says, steadying himself so he doesn’t fall on the toddlers. It’s literally never-ending. He turns around, his legs still being held by the 3 year-olds. “Ernest! Doris! You almost knocked me down!” he says, playfully putting his hands on his hips and sticking his bottom lip further out in a pout. 

The twins giggle, releasing their grip of Harry’s knees when he kneels down so that he’s almost eye-level with them. 

“Now, how are my favorite pair of twins doing today?” he smiles, one hand on each of the toddlers’ arms.

Doris gasps, her red ringlets bouncing with every movement. “Achoo!”

Harry laughs. “Bless you,” he says, and the twins giggle at him.

“No, silly!” Ernest says. “Achoo!”

“Achoo!” Doris repeats excitedly. 

“Do you want to play doctor?” Harry says, trying to understand what they’re getting at. 

“Achoo!” Ernest says once more, pointing behind Harry.

Harry turns around to see the last person he thought he’d run into today. The person that’s been avoiding him for literally months, and the person who he managed to not even  _think_  about today until this moment. The person who looks  _just_  as shocked to see Harry as Harry is to see him.

“Louis,” Harry says before losing his footing and falling straight onto his ass in front of Ernest and Doris.  _Wow, he’s beautiful_.

“Harry, um,” Louis says, taken aback by his presence. “What are you doing here?” He picks Doris up, who had run up to him and tugged on his jeans until she got what she wanted. Ernest follows her, but wraps his arms around Louis’s leg instead.

“I’m filling in for Leigh today,” he says, standing up and dusting his jeans off. “What are you doing here?” Harry asks nervously.

Louis smiles awkwardly and motions to the kids hanging off of him like monkeys. 

“Right, of course, stupid question,” Harry half-mumbles, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck and looking anywhere but at Louis. “Let me just check you out. Or-I mean-sign you out so that you can, you know, take them home and-“

“Harry, I got it,” Louis smiles. Harry musters up a tense smile and motions Louis and the twins over to the desk at the front of the room.

“So, they’re yours, then?” Harry asks quietly, looking through the papers to find the twin's names.

“Well, I mean… Yeah,” Louis says, setting Doris down and grabbing her hand instead. 

“Oh,” Harry says simply.

“What, is that weird or something?” Louis says in a playful tone.

“No, not at all. You just, um,” Harry clears his throat. “You never mentioned that you have kids, is all,” he shrugs.

Louis’s eyes immediately scrunch up and a (really fucking adorable) laugh makes its way through Louis’s lips as he shakes his head. “You’re an absolute idiot,” Louis muses.

“What?” Harry can’t help but chuckle at the comment.

“You of all people should know that I’m gay, Harold. I can’t make children. These are my  _siblings_ ,” he says, his laughter still evident. 

Harry’s eyes widen. “Right. I, um, knew that,” he mumbles.

“Sure you did,” Louis nods his head, smiling the same smile that makes Harry’s heart jump.

They study each other’s faces silently for slightly too long. Louis’s the first one to break the silence.

“So, we should probably get going, then,” he says, squeezing the toddlers’ hands. “It was,” he starts, making eye contact with Harry. “It was really nice to see you,” Louis smiles genuinely. Harry just nods in reply. 

Louis begins to turn away, and all Harry can think is  _Don’t stop him. Don’t stop him. Don’t stop him. Don’t sto-_

“Hey, Harry?”

“Yes?” Harry immediately responds to Louis. Literally immediately. There was no time in between. 

“Do you think you’d mind helping us to me car? They won’t want in their stroller, so I need an extra hand to get the stroller out there,” Louis says sheepishly.

“Sure,” Harry smiles, probably too eagerly. He unhooks the tram from its place outside and begins to push it, following the love of his- _Louis_  out to his car.

“Do you mind just putting it in the back there?” Louis asks, and Harry shakes his head.

“Happy to,” Harry says, opening the back of the car and hoisting the twin tram into the open area while Louis hooks the twins into their carseats.

_This is so weird._

Louis gets Ernest and Doris strapped into their seats and closes the door, walking behind his car to where Harry is. “So, uh, thanks for that,” he motions to the now-closed trunk of his car.

“It was nothing,” Harry breathes with an awkward smile and his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. 

“Well, I better get those two home-“

“Louis, why didn’t you just tell me you didn’t feel the same way?” Harry asks, unable to control his thoughts any longer.

“Harry,” Louis sighs, running his hands through his fringe.

“You could have just told me that you didn’t want to be with me instead of fucking me and then leaving me a sticky note as some horrible excuse for a goodbye,” Harry blurts out. He can feel the tears pricking the back of his eyes and he can hear his voice choking up, but he’s accidentally opened a gate to his emotions and he can’t seem to stop himself. He’s just glad the twins can’t hear or see them from where they are. 

“That’s not what I was trying to-“

“Do you even know how that made me feel? I tell you I love you, and then you make me think that you might feel even remotely the same way, and then the next day you’re just gone with no warning, and you completely ignore me for-“

Louis cuts Harry off by grabbing the back of his neck and swiftly connecting their lips together for the first time in 4 months. Harry gasps in shock, but quickly lets himself melt into the kiss, moving his lips against Louis’s and grabbing onto his waist as he feels a tear run down his cheek. The kiss is desperate and hopeless, but Harry still wishes it’ll never end. 

He wants it to last forever, but regardless, he forces himself to slowly push Louis away, tearing their lips apart. He keeps his eyes closed, but his grip on Louis’s biceps tight as he tries to go over what just happened in his head.

“Harry,” Louis says quietly, dropping his arms.

“Why did you do that?” Harry asks monotonously, opening his eyes to look down at the boy in front of him. 

“I’m sorry,” Louis replies, and Harry can see the tears welling up in his eyes. 

“Why would you do that?” Harry asks again.

“I’m so, so sorry,” Louis repeats, choking on a sob and pushing Harry’s hands off of his arms, turning around and walking to the front of his car.

Harry sighs, running his hand over his face. “Louis, stop-“

“Bye, Harry,” Louis mumbles, getting into the driver’s seat of his car and shutting the door.

“Louis!” Harry yells as Louis starts his car up and begins to back out of the parking space. Louis drives away, and Harry watches his car leave the school parking lot. “ _Fuck_ ,” he grumbles to himself. He groans loudly and kicks the curb in front of him, before running his hands through his hair and slowly making his way back inside. He tries his best not to cry for the rest of the day. Or more accurately, he tries his best not to let the kids see him cry for the rest of the day.

 

///

 

“Why would he do that, Liam? Seriously, why?” Harry continues his 17 minute rant. Liam opens his mouth to speak for the sixth time in five minutes, but is cut off by Harry once again. “Like, how does someone just-“

“Sleep with someone who just told them they loved him, leave a sticky note on his pillow the next morning saying a shitty goodbye, ignore their calls for months, only to kiss them when they run into them 4 months later and leave crying 30 seconds later?” Liam finishes Harry’s sentence with folded arms, shooting Harry an annoyed look as he does so.

“Okay, Liam, you could at least try to spare my feelings,” Harry shoots back. “I’m the one going through shit right now.”

“Are you though?” Liam questions. 

“Yes,” Harry says, annoyed at Liam’s tendency to make it seem like Harry’s not experiencing as much as he is.

“Harry, I know your feelings are hurt, but if anyone is going through anything right now, it’s Louis,” Liam asserts, and Harry furrows his eyebrows.

“But-“

“Think about it, Haz,” he reasons. “Louis was in a relationship with a guy who hurt him, mentally and physically for  _months_  before he was able to get up the courage to leave him. He had to go to the hospital because of the beating he got after he went home up with a love bite that you gave him. The bloke stalked and almost killed him before he was finally sent to jail-or wherever he ended up. Then, the only person he really trusted at that point told him that he was in love with him. And he  _obviously_  feels the same way, by the way. You’re being absolutely daft, mate. Of  _course_  he’s in love with you. He wouldn’t have slept with you if he wasn’t. But you’ve got to remember, the last person he loved hurt him. A lot. It’s got to be hard on him, don’t you think? And now he’s sitting in his new flat, most likely just as upset as you are, if not more, crying because he doesn’t know if he can ever really love properly again. He’s  _way_  worse off than you are, mate,” Liam finishes his long-awaited speech with an intake of air into his lungs. 

Harry stares at him with wide eyes and his mouth slightly ajar. “I guess I hadn’t thought of that,” he mumbles quietly, looking down at his fingers. 

Liam bites his lip. “I’m sorry, Harry. I didn’t mean to unload all of that on you, but,” he sighs. “he’s can’t be having an easy time with this either.”

“No, you’re right, Liam. Thank you,” Harry says genuinely, giving him a small smile. “So you really think he feels the same way I do?”

“I really do,” Liam nods. 

Harry swallows. “I have to go see him then,” he says, standing up.

“Harry, don’t. Give him some space for now. It’s only been a few hours since you saw him, just let it rest for tonight,” Liam urges, not wanting to put anymore stress on the poor blue-eyed boy. 

“I’ll see you later, Li,” Harry says with a grin, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair and running out of Liam’s flat.

“Harry!” Liam calls after him, but Harry’s already slammed the door behind him. 

 

///

 

“Louis!” Harry whisper-shouts as he throws a pebble at the glass door of the balcony on the corner of the building he saw him go into a month ago now. “Louis!” He throws another pebble. “Lou!”

The glass door opens, and Harry’s breath draws itself back into his lungs, but his stomach drops when he sees the Irishman that he’s seen Louis with in the past. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Louis’s friend says, obviously annoyed. “It’s fuckin’ 2 in the morning.”

“Um,” Harry says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. “Is Louis there?” he calls up to him. 

“Next balcony over, mate,” he calls back down. “I’m Niall, and if you ever wake me up in the middle of the night again, I’m throwing something at you,” he says before going back into his room. Harry chooses to ignore the fact that Niall kept him up many nights in the past before any of this started. 

Harry shrugs his shoulders and takes a deep breath before throwing a pebble at the right balcony this time. “Louis!” he calls as he continues to hit the glass door with tiny rocks. “Lou!”

“What the fuck-“ Harry hears Louis curse as the door slides open, Harry’s breath catching in his throat. “Harry?” Louis says, barely loud enough for Harry to hear. 

“Um,” Harry says. “Hi.”

“What are you doing-“ Louis starts, and Harry can’t help but cut him off, just wanting to say what he needs to say before Louis can shut him out again.

"I know it's hard for you to trust me,” he starts. "I know that. Especially because of how I feel about you and where similar feelings have taken you in the past. But I can tell you right now that I would  _never_  treat you the way he did. I would  _never_  hurt you. I'm not him. You know who I am. I know you do. You deserve the  _world_ , Louis Tomlinson. The absolute world, and I want the opportunity to be able to try to give you the world. Because you might be too good to be true, and you're all I bloody want. Please just give me a chance to show you that I can make you  _happy_. That we can make each other happy. Please," Harry breathes out with pure desperation in his voice, and he thinks it might be the fastest he's ever talked. 

There’s a long silence between the two, and Harry watches as Louis wipes his eyes, and he hears him sniffle from his balcony. “How did you know where I lived?” Louis says as a reply.

“I took a detour on a run awhile back, and-and you were just getting back,” Harry explains.

Louis breathes out a small laugh, and Harry can’t help but smile at the sight. “So I  _did_  see you hiding in the alleyway.”

“You caught me,” Harry says awkwardly. “So,” he breathes. “What do you say, Lou? Can we give this a go?”

“Harry,” Louis sighs, pushing his fringe off of his forehead. 

“Please,” Harry begs.

Louis’s silent for what feels like an eternity. Harry waits for a reply, but is met instead with Louis sighing and going straight back into his flat without a word. 

Harry feels his heart break in two at that. Tears prick the back of his eyes as he hears the door slide closed and the lock click. The tears fall when he blinks, and he doesn’t want to be that guy that stands outside forever after he’s rejected, so Harry turns around and begins to walk slowly away, the tears coming more quickly now. 

“So are balconies just our thing, then?” Louis’s voice sounds from behind him, and Harry turns around so fast he becomes dizzy, but he doesn’t care because the love of his life came downstairs. For him.

“Louis,” he breathes, his body frozen in shock.

“It was fun to be on the receiving side of this balcony nonsense, I have to say,” Louis jokes, his eyes nervous and his hands fidgeting in front of him. Harry’s brokenhearted tears quickly transform into tears of joy as he makes his way to Louis so fast he thinks he’s running. 

He can’t help but pick Louis up in a hug when he reaches him, spinning him around like in one of those cheesy rom-coms that Harry’s obsessed with. The action makes Louis laugh in surprise.

“Harry, you’re making me sick!” he jokes. Harry lets his feet touch the ground again, but doesn’t let him get another word out before he presses their lips together in a sloppy kiss that would honestly probably be kind of gross if he wasn’t so fucking happy. He disconnects their lips and instead opts for planting a kiss on every single square inch of Louis’s face, making the smaller boy giggle. “That tickles!” he squeals. “Stop!” he laughs, and Harry does, running his hands through Louis hair and looking into his eyes, blue like the sea, as another tears falls down his cheek.

“I love you,” Harry blurts, not being able to stop himself. “And again, you don’t have to say it back, I just-“

“I love you too,” Louis says, running his thumb over the apple of Harry’s cheek.

Harry sighs in relief. “Okay, good, because that would have been embarrassing,” he admits, and Louis shakes his head before pressing their lips together once more.

 

-


End file.
